


I Saw Bitty Kissing Santa Claus

by MapleleafCameo



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Bakery, Christmas, Loneliness, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:58:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleleafCameo/pseuds/MapleleafCameo
Summary: When Bitty runs into the tall, handsome man in the grocery store, he should have known. After all Jack checks his list and checks it twice, has a pet reindeer and hangs out with elves. Just don't call them elves.





	1. Handsome Man in Aisle Six

**Author's Note:**

> I think you can probably see where this is going. XD  
> Thanks to Ngozi for her fabulous comic and world building.  
> Thanks to mattsloved1 for looking this over.

One large bag of flour, a new bottle of real vanilla extract and some apples were already in the cart along with more ordinary items like chicken, potatoes, and carrots. Bitty threw in some more butter because butter. At the display of Christmas cookie decorations, he decided to get the green and red sugar crystals and a container of holiday mix sprinkles to add to his already extensive collection in his kitchen. He still needed to find the good chocolate and some candy canes.

 

The candy canes were near the aisle that held the seasonal items. Someone stood in front of the display, so he parked his cart and waited. And waited. Checked his phone. Waited some more. He must have sighed because the rather tall, broad-shouldered individual wearing a gorgeous cherry red winter coat, black knit hat and a posterior that would not quit turned around. Bitty’s heart thumped in his chest, and he may have made a slightly embarrassing squeak because tall, dark and brooding frowned at him a smidge.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Handsome. “I didn’t realize I was blocking the display.”

 

He shuffled a bit to make room for Bitty and turned back to perusing the boxes of candy canes with fierce intensity.

 

“It’s all right,” Bitty said, after clearing his throat and hoped he didn't sound like he wanted to bang the guy. Which he did.

 

The display held two kinds of candy cane, the traditional peppermint and an assorted with a variety of fruit flavours. Handsome had one of each in his hand, and he glared at both of them as if they had personally offended him.

 

Bitty reached around and grabbed a box of traditional.

 

Handsome turned to him, seemed to be making his mind up about something and said, “May I ask you a question?”

 

Bitty laughed nervously. “You just did.” _Shut up!_ said his inner voice.

 

“Oh, yeah. Haha. Um, why did you take the peppermint kind? I’m just curious.”

 

“Oh well, um, first of all, I’ll use most of them in baking, you know, adds a little festive sparkle to cookies, and I’ll put a few on my tree, but the real reason is well, come on, candy canes should be peppermint. I get some folks don't like peppermint, but frankly, I think they need some counselling. There is something seriously unChristmasy with putting fruit flavoured candy canes on a tree.”

 

“Oh. But fruit grows on trees.”

 

“Listen, hun; I don't make the rules,” he grinned. “May I ask you a question in return?” Bitty hoped he hadn’t just batted his eyes at the man.

 

“Ha, yes,” he said, smiling. He had such lovely blue eyes, like the sky on a clear winter day. “Um,” said Handsome.

 

“Oh yes, sorry, lost in thought. Why did you want to know?”

 

“The, uh, the uh, people, where I work wanted to change things up a bit and try new things, and, uh, they wondered about fruit flavoured candy canes. They thought it might be a nice change from traditional. I like tradition. It’s comforting.”

 

“Oh,” said Bitty not sure how to respond to the idea of a business getting so hard-core on the flavor of candy canes. Seemed a little extreme. “Could you get some of each and let people decide for themselves?”

 

Handsome blinked, and he smiled big and broad. It changed his face from prickly, ‘don't touch me!’ to warm and inviting. Very, very inviting.

 

“Yeah! Thanks. You’re good at this.”

 

Bitty shrugged trying desperately to ignore his libido which projected images in his head of this man sprawled in front of a roaring fire on a fur rug. Not that Bitty had a fireplace or believed in fur rugs but damn! A random puppy wandered into his daydream and snuggled up against Handsome’s bare chest.

 

“You okay? You look a little flushed.”

 

“I’m sorry! I, uh, I guess I should get going. Baking to do. Trying out recipes. For a bakery. Cause I bake.” _Erg! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up_! He bit his lip. He walked a couple of feet from the display, summoned up his courage and turned saying, “Hey you wouldn't want to get a cup…” but the words died in his throat. Handsome had disappeared. “Weird.”

 

Bitty kept an eye out for him as he completed his shopping but he didn’t see him. He paid for his groceries and walked back to his small apartment. His previous cheerful disposition turned gloomy. He would die alone.

 

He unlocked his door and flicked on the lights. Coat hung up and scarf, hat and mitts put on the old fashioned register to keep warm, he unpacked his groceries and put them away. Too tired to cook anything of much, he settled for warming up some leftover soup. He took it into the living room and sat on the couch looking out his window at the building next door.

 

He sighed and gave himself a shake.

 

“Enough! You do not have time to mope. Get your fanny in gear and start on the Christmas baking.” He turned on the lights on his tiny tree, selected some Christmas music on his phone, put it into the dock and checked his Christmas baking to-do list.

 

He thought about Handsome and decided to start with Candy Cane Snowball Cookies. If they turned out, he’d ask Tater to let him make some tomorrow.

 

Checking the recipe card, he pulled out flour, butter, eggs, confectioners’ sugar, vanilla and peppermint extract. He got out a large bowl, stuck the butter in and added the confectioners’ sugar, beating them together while he sang along with some of the old favourite Christmas songs from his childhood.

 

_“…making a list_

_He's checking it twice;_

_He's gonna find out who's naughty or nice_

_Santa Claus is coming to town_

_He sees you when you're sleeping_

_He knows when you're awake_

_He knows when you've been bad or good_

_So be good for goodness sake!”_

 

“Yep. It’s confirmed. Santa is a stalker.”

 

The dough was ready and wrapped in plastic to chill for an hour. Taking the box of candy canes, he opened four, removed the plastic and broke them up into smaller pieces. He rummaged in his utensil drawer and found the candy hammer. The pieces went into a plastic bag, and he whacked the candy into tiny granules, taking out some of his frustration and loneliness with each hit. While he waited for the dough to cool, he started on another batch of cookies; this time sugar cookies, which he would use for cut out cookies.

 

By the time he’d rolled the cookies in the pieces of broken candy cane and baked them, he decided to leave the sugar cookie dough in the fridge for tomorrow. He tidied up and turned off the tree lights, went into his closet of a bedroom and got into his sweatpants and a t-shirt. Grateful his Mama had insisted on buying him a decent down comforter for his bed, he pulled it up to his chin. The window above his head framed the softly falling snow, and as he fell asleep, he dreamed of blue eyes, hearthrugs, and puppies.


	2. Don't Call Them Elves

From start to finish, it had been a hectic day. Only days left until Christmas and a lot of last minute “I need this by four!” orders had gone through, plus all of the regular baking. Bitty had been able to convince Tater to let him make the candy cane cookies, although that hadn't been hard. Tater was probably Bitty’s biggest fan and let him do whatever experimental baking he wanted as long as he finished his scheduled work first.

 

Tater left an hour before Bitty, leaving him to close up. “Night, Little Bits. I see you bright and early tomorrow. Last of the Christmas rush, yes? I must get presents for family before stores close.”

 

“Night, Tater. See you tomorrow.”

 

At the end of the day, Bitty locked the door and pocketed the key. Tired and hungry, he hunkered down into his coat, hoping to grab something to eat on the way home. Deep in thought, he didn't hear the sound of footsteps in the snow until they were almost upon him.

 

“Excuse me!” said a voice behind him. Startled, Bitty spun around, and the Handsome Man from the grocery store stood there.

 

“Oh!” Bitty said. “Hi! From the grocery store, right? Remember me?”

 

“Remember you? Of course, I do. I remember everyone,” he huffed.

 

“Okay,” Bitty said, not sure why the man seemed annoyed. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I just saw you coming out of the bakery. I guess you’re closed, eh? I needed to get some cookies.” He continued to look annoyed, but it seemed as if it were more with himself than Bitty.

 

“I am so sorry. I just locked up. We won’t open again until tomorrow morning. And there isn't another bakery around here for miles.”

 

The man rubbed the back of his head. “Great! That figures! I am just not doing any of this right.” He put his hands over his face and rocked a bit.

 

“My goodness! What can I do to help? You seem so upset.”

 

The man shook his head back and forth. “No, no, there’s nothing you can do. Argh!”

 

“Can I help you? Is there something I can do?”

 

“No, I don't think you can. I just can’t get the hang of this Christmas thing. I’m not good at it.” Handsome waved his hands in the air. “I mean I’m good at the presents and the wrapping. I can make lists and check them twice. But it’s the little things, like the candy canes. I’m not good at the jolly part and finding coal. Where the hell am I supposed to get coal these days? It’s not the old days when Grandpa said he could find it lying in bins in the basement. Not that I really believe in giving out coal but I suppose it’s tradition…”

 

“Not everyone is good at Christmas. It’s a hard time of the year, with all of the rushing about and trying to make everything perfect. It doesn’t have to be that way. You are only one person.” Bitty bit his lip, took a deep breath and said, “Look, I don’t normally offer to do this, but my boss is a good guy. He’d totally understand. How many cookies are we talking about?”

 

“About six dozen.”

 

“Six dozen? That’s, what, seventy-two cookies. Hmmm, I can do that, but it might take a couple of hours. You’ve got the time?”

 

Handsome blinked at him. “Euh, yes, I can do that. I, uh, can always find coal later.”

 

“Do I want to know why you need coal? Nope, never mind. And you know what? If you’re not big on giving out coal, I might have a solution for that, too. Just promise me you aren't a serial killer, okay?”

 

“No,” said the man, smiling, his eyes warm. “Definitely not a serial killer. I can't thank you enough. You’ve saved my life. I knew you were Nice.” Bitty could hear the capital N.

 

“You know if I didn't know better I’d think you were Santa himself. All this talk of coal and candy canes.”

 

“Haha, yeah, that would be something. Haha.”

 

Bitty pulled out the key and unlocked the door. He disarmed the alarm and turned the lights on. Hanging up their coats, he changed back into his work shoes and led Handsome into the kitchen.

 

Bitty took out his recipe book from a drawer in the office. “What kind of cookies do you want?”

 

“Uh, maybe, shortbread? Or you know the kind where they’re shapes? I don't want to be a bother.”

 

“How about we do some easy, peasy cut out cookies. You can help. I won't take long at all. We can put a simple icing on them and sprinkles. Would that work?”

 

“Oh yeah! That would be great. Do you want some help? I have some friends nearby.”

 

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way. I mean I don't mind letting you in here, but I’m not sure Tater would want a whole party of strangers roaming in his kitchen.”

 

“No, no I guess not. Let me just call and let someone know where I am.” He took his phone out of his back pocket and walked over to the door. Bitty, not wanting to eavesdrop flipped through the pages while he searched for the right recipe. Handsome went through the door to the front of the bakery, and he heard, “Hey, yeah, Holster? It’s me. Can I speak to Lardo? Or Tango? Yeah, hi! No, I am not lost…”

 

Lardo, Holster, Tango? Weird names. But then who was he to judge. He pulled butter and eggs out of the fridge and confectioner’s sugar, flour and vanilla from the pantry and put them on the counter. He plugged in the two big mixers and turned on the ovens. Calculating how much he’d need for six-dozen cookies, he measured the ingredients into two batches and lined them up near the mixers. He added the butter to both mixers just as Handsome came into the kitchen.

 

“Now before we go any further, I can’t keep calling you Handsome in my head. What’s your name?”

 

“You call me Handsome?” he blushed.

 

“Have you seen yourself?”

 

“Um, no, I, uh, I mean yeah, but I don't think of myself that way.”

 

“Sweetheart, you could be a model if you wanted.”

 

His blushed deepened.

 

“So, what should I call you?”

 

“Uhhhh, Jack, I guess.”

 

“You guess?”

 

“Long story. But you can call me Jack.”

 

“I’m Bitty.”

 

“I kn… cute name.”

 

“No chirping from you, Mister Jack. It’s a nickname from my hockey days. And yes, I did play hockey.” Jack’s smile grew broader. Bitty didn't know what it was that made him trust a complete stranger so readily but he did. He just seemed so…good. “So, uh, yeah.” Bitty flushed. Jack’s smile was doing things.

 

“What can I do?”

 

Bitty nodded toward the large bowl containing the confectioner’s sugar. “Add that slowly into that mixer while I do this one.”

 

“I don’t want to mess up your cookies.”

 

“Sweetheart, you needn’t worry. I’ll talk you through.” Bitty told him which ingredients to add when, praising him as they went in without much trouble, the occasional poof of sugar or flour floating through the air. He noticed that every time he complimented Jack, he blushed. It made him even more extraordinarily attractive, if that was at all possible and it definitely made his stomach flutter.

 

When the dough was ready, Bitty divided it into four balls, wrapped them in plastic wrap and threw them in the fridge. “They’ll need to chill a bit, so while that’s happening, we can mix up some icing.” Bitty showed Jack how to make icing next. He covered it and set it to one side. By then, the dough was ready, and he rolled it out. “Can you get the cookie cutters? They’re on the third shelf in the storeroom. They say Christmas Cookie Cutters on them.”

 

Jack handed the box to Bitty.

 

“Okay. Let’s pick some out. Let’s see; we’ve got a bell and a tree and an angel and…”

 

“Dasher!”

 

“Okay, yeah haha, there’s a reindeer. He’s a nice big one.”

 

“She.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“She, female reindeer keep their antlers in the winter, males don't.”

 

Bitty blinked at him. “Well, I guess it’s true. You do learn something new every day.” He smiled, wondering what it was about Jack that felt so right in spite of him being all kinds of excited about cookie cutters. “Okay then, oh look there’s an elf. What?” Jack had made a strange noise.

 

“Um, could we, could we call them Santa’s Associates?”

 

“Sure?”

 

“I know it’s an odd request, but trust me, you don't want to call them elves. Shi…someone told me it’s not as belittling.”

 

“Okay, so the word I’m looking for is _anyway_ , here’s a, um, Santa’s Associate cutter.”

 

“Can we do an assortment?”

 

“Sure, hun. It’s your rodeo.”

 

The dough rolled out nicely, and they spent the next little while carefully cutting out the cookies. Bitty transferred them to the big baking sheets and put them in the ovens.

 

“There that shouldn't be long. Then they’ll come out. They’ll have to cool. Hmmm, can I interest you in some day old bread? I think there’s some cheese in the fridge.”

 

Jack pulled out his phone. “Hi Lardo? It’s me. Listen can you come around with a couple of those turkey sandwiches with the cranberry dressing? Yeah, and an order of the sweet potato fries. Thanks!” He put the phone back in his pocket. “I have a friend bringing us some supper. I hope you like turkey.”

 

Bitty nodded. This had to be the strangest evening he’d ever had.

 

Less than two minutes later Jack’s phone rang with a ringtone that seemed familiar.  

 

“Yes. Thanks! I’ll come to the door. That was Lardo. She’s here with our supper.”

 

Bitty just shook his head, hopped off of the stool he was sitting on and led the way to the door. He unlocked it and let in a woman about his age, shorter than he and dressed in paint-splattered green overalls and a red t-shirt, carrying a large brown paper bag.

 

“Hey, boss.”

 

“Hey, Lardo. This is Bitty. Bitty, Lardo.”

 

“Hi. Pleased to meet you.”

 

She looked him up and down, tilted her head, looked at Jack and said, “He’ll do.” Lardo handed him the bag and left.

 

“I’ll do?”

 

“Oh. You heard that. Yeah, she’s…just ignore her.”

 

A ding from the kitchen drove whatever response Bitty could have made out of his head. He ran into the kitchen and put on some oven mitts, pulled the trays of cookies out. They smelled wonderful. Bitty quickly placed them on racks to cool and pulled out some plates.

 

Jack stood awkwardly with the bag in his hand. Bitty smiled and took it from him, placing the large sandwiches on the plates and splitting the fries between them. He got a carton of milk from the fridge and poured them both large glasses.

 

They sat at the counter at the back of the kitchen, eating their supper in comfortable silence. Bitty couldn't have said all of the things that were trying to burst from him at once. There was definitely something strange going on. He almost wanted it to be an elaborate prank, but it didn't feel that way. It felt magical.

 

Finishing his supper and wiping his mouth, he cleared his throat. “Jack?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Didn't we do this at the grocery store?” he asked with a soft smile.

 

“Hush, you. I’m being serious.”

 

“Yes of course. I can be perfectly serious. Look.” Jack sat up straight, and a solemn expression sat on his face.

 

“Are you…Okay, this is hard to say,” he took a deep breath. “Are you…ready to help me ice some cookies?”

 

“That is your serious question?”

 

“Ye…es?”

 

Jack looked at him like he wanted to say something, but shook his head and slid off the stool. “Yes, I would love to ice some cookies.”

 

They got to work, Bitty squeezing plain white icing on the cookies while Jack followed behind him shaking red or green sprinkles on the wet icing.

 

After they finished, they worked together tidying up the kitchen, washed the dishes and mopped the floor. Bitty took out some pastry boxes and parchment paper and carefully placed all of the cookies into them.

 

He taped the front shut and stacked them.

 

 

Jack stood there with his hands in his pockets. “I guess I should pay you.”

 

Bitty nodded. “I guess you should.” He jotted down the number of cookies on a pad of paper and went out to the front to ring it through the cash register. Jack gave Bitty the money and a generous tip. “You don't need to do that.”

 

“Bitty, you gave up your whole evening to help me. It’s the least I can do.”

 

“Okay fine, but next time you come back during business hours, mister.”

 

Jack put his coat on and then stood by the door shuffling his feet. “Can I…can I give you a lift home?”

 

“Nah, that’s okay. I need to make sure I’ve turned off the ovens and lock up. You’d better get going.” He looked at his feet and then back at Jack. “Can I call you some time?”

 

“Yeah, sure, that would be great. Here’s my number.” He took a pad of paper and a pen out of his pocket and wrote it down. He handed it to Bitty who barely glanced at it. “Thanks again. I’m busy for the next few days, but maybe after Christmas?”

 

“That would be great. Thanks, Jack. I had a really nice time.”

 

“Me too. Probably the nicest I’ve had in a long time. Night Bitty. If you don't see me, Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Jack.”

 

Jack nodded and left, the door shutting behind him.

 

Bitty took a deep breath and turned to check the kitchen and get his things. He noticed a black knit hat on the floor. He rushed to pick it up and ran out the door hoping to catch Jack.

 

When he got outside, there was no sign of anyone anywhere. Nothing up or down the street. Snowflakes, large and wet fell from the sky, covering the ground and sparkling in the light from the street lamps. It had been falling for a long time. There were no footprints to show which way Jack had gone.

 

Puzzled, Bitty went back into the bakery, checked the ovens and shut the lights off. He threw his coat and boots on, putting Jack’s hat in his pocket. He’d have to call Jack and let him know. Perhaps they could meet, and Bitty could give it back. He might need it.

 

He locked the door and headed back to the bus stop. The wind had whipped up. Bitty pulled Jack’s hat out of his pocket and put it on his head, thinking Jack probably wouldn't mind. Bitty half wished he’d taken Jack up on his offer. He checked his phone and saw if he hurried, he’d make the next bus. Waiting, he opened his phone to type Jack’s number in. He frowned at the sheet of paper. The phone number was the standard ten digits, but there were only two numbers used in the whole sequence, four and six, one after the other. He typed it into his contacts and then, on a hunch, he opened the keypad.

 

A funning, giddy feeling floated up through him as he stared at the letters beneath the numbers, muttering to himself different letter combinations. When he figured it out he nearly dropped his phone.

 

“I don't believe it,” he whispered. In the distance, he could hear the bus coming and the faint sound of sleigh bells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't figure out Jack's phone number it's 464-646-4646 or HOH-OHO-HOHO


	3. Bitty Was a Very Good Boy This Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like another chapter of a Christmas story the week of St. Patrick's Day XD  
> I have also added another chapter. I hope to finish the story this week.  
> Sorry for the delay. January and February tend to be rough months personally and things have also been busy. I've been doing a lot of sewing :)

Bitty wandered around the days leading up to Christmas in a bit of a haze. Belief and doubt in a Jack who might be Santa Claus filled up any free space in his brain. It distracted him when he needed to concentrate on baking, eating, dressing and any of the ordinary things that filled his day.

 

Tater, with a knowing grin, assumed Bitty had found love and chirped him for mistakes he’d never made before.

 

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either.

 

“It is good you have found someone, yes? But Itty Bitty, you must save pining for after the holidays. There’s work to do.” Tater slapped him on the back in a friendly way.

 

When he returned to his apartment after they’d made cookies, he stood in the entryway, holding Jack’s black hat for a few minutes, frowning and turned it around and around, before he laid it on the radiator next to his mitts. It looked nice. Like it belonged.

 

He sat on his couch in the dark, stared at his phone and tried to decide whether or not he should text Jack.

 

Unlocking his phone, he rubbed an anxious thumb on the screen, took a deep breath and typed.

 

_Hi Jack. It’s Bitty. From the bakery. You left your hat behind. I know you said you were busy but you might need it. I’ll bring it to the bakery, and if you have time, you can stop by and pick it up._

 

Pausing, he wondered if now was the best time to ask.

 

_Jack_

_Are you Santa?_

 

He erased the last line almost as soon as he’d finished typing.

 

_Maybe after Christmas, we can get together, and you can tell me all about you, and I can tell you all about me._

 

After he’d gone to bed, he fell asleep and dreamt of snow-covered Christmas lights. The sensation of an unnamable mystery welled up inside him. The sound of sleigh bells in the distance, and the smell of pine crinkled his nose. Someone warm and real held him in his arms. He may have woken up to a tear-dampened pillow.

 

On Christmas Eve after the bakery closed, he and Tater exchanged gifts. Then he trudged to the bus stop and waited in the chill wind. With a sad little sigh, he put Jack’s hat on his head. It still smelled faintly of Jack, a rugged, woodsy sort of scent. The lump in his throat made it painful to swallow. The bus arrived, and he climbed on board, found an empty seat, his head pressed against the cold window. He didn’t see the passing stores and people rushing home.

 

That singular loneliness that gathered in the chest of those without family or friends nearby on the holidays weighed him down. With monumental effort, he got out of his seat when the bus came to his stop.

 

Jack had not texted him back.

 

Jack probably would never text him back.

 

Stamping his feet on the rug in the building entryway, he stopped to check his mailbox. Nothing. A parcel from his parents had arrived a few days before, and except for Tater, he didn't have many friends with whom he exchanged gifts or letters.

 

Slowly he journeyed up the stairs. With the door shut behind him, he took off coat and boots. He walked into the kitchen and opened the door of the fridge, staring, not seeing the inside at all.

 

He’d been so happy the night he and Jack had made the cookies, and there had been a moment where he thought perhaps this was it.

 

All of the feelings between them imagined, all the impossibilities of magic and childhood wishes gone with the promise of what might have been.

 

He shut the door and his shoulders drooped a little. Face in his hands, he took a deep, shuddering breath.

 

“Enough,” he said. Into the fridge once more, he pulled out an egg and lemon juice. From the cupboard, he collected sugar, icing sugar and black gel colouring. After separating the yolk from the white, he put the yolk to one side to scramble up tomorrow for breakfast. He whisked together some of the icing sugar with the egg white, gel and lemon juice and then added the remaining icing sugar. Once the batter had reached proper stiffness, he set it aside to mix up three cups of sugar and a quarter cup of water into a saucepan. Once the sugar and water heated to the right temperature, he added the batter and stirred it in. He poured the whole thing into a parchment-lined pan and left it on the counter to harden. He’d break it into pieces later. Cleaning up the pans and other equipment, he dried his hands and went into the living room.

 

And stopped.

 

When he’d left for work that morning, he’d put the gifts from his parents under the tree. He’d made sure the lights were off.

 

Tonight the tree gleamed with coloured lights and under it lay far too many presents.

 

Bitty did a remarkable impression of a fish.

 

His phone buzzed in his back pocket with a series of incoming texts.

 

_Hi, it’s me._

_Jack._

_In case you didn't know. I mean you might have added my name to the number, but I wasn’t sure._

_I’m so sorry I haven’t responded to your earlier texts, but it’s been incredibly busy at work, and I haven't got a lot of time._

_I know you’re awake._

_That sounds so wrong. I’m not good at this._

 

_I’d love to see you after Christmas, and I’d love to get to know you and have you get to know me._

_I’d love to see you sooner._

_But…_

 

For a few minutes, nothing happened and just as Bitty was about to text back another message popped up.

 

_This is completely illogical but can I see you? I mean right now? Would it be okay if I came over for a few minutes?_

_And not just to get my hat._

_Thanks._

_This boy_ , Bitty thought and texted back one word.

 

_Yes_

 

A gentle knock sounded on the door. Bitty jumped.

 

“How on earth?” He unlocked the door and flung it open.

 

Jack stood sheepishly on the other side.

 

“Hi,” he said.

 

“Hi,” Bitty said back. He could feel the grin on his face stretch even further. His heart thumped loudly, and he felt a little faint. “Hi. Come in?”

 

“I can only stay a minute. I’m already behind, but I had to see you.”

 

Bitty stepped to one side and let Jack come through. He shut the door and turned around.

 

“Do you want anything? Coffee or juice or something?”

 

“Milk? Is that okay? I don't have a lot of time.”

 

“I understand. Why don't you give me your coat? Your hat’s right here. I’ll put it in your sleeve, so you don't lose it, and you head on into the living room and make yourself at home. I’ll be right in.”

 

He got out two glasses and poured milk into both. He broke off some of the coal and put it on a plate. In the living room, he found Jack sitting on the couch gazing at his hands.

 

Bitty put the glasses and plate on the coffee table. “Here you go. I made some coal, out of sugar. I brought you some to see if you like it. I forgot to show you the other night when we made...”

 

Whatever else he could say was cut off. Jack stood abruptly and pulled Bitty into his arms, kissing him soundly on the mouth. Instinctively, Bitty wrapped his arms around Jack and held him. He kissed him back, kissed him joyfully, with his whole heart. A faint taste of peppermint lingered on Jacks lips.

 

They pulled apart. Jack’s hands still held Bitty, eyes searching his face.

 

“I,” Bitty breathed. “Hi, Santa?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that I mean, it’s not just me. It’s a family business. I’m learning the ropes. My Papa, he’s the one who is Santa. I’m just doing Providence, and next year I’ll get all of North America. I think he wants to retire and take my Mom to Tahiti.”

 

Bitty’s mouth fell open. And then he began to giggle. He giggled and laughed and fell against Jack’s chest. “Oh my lord.” He wiped at his eyes “I can’t believe I am standing in my living room hearing you say that and I am totally, totally believing it, Oh sweetheart!”

 

Jack chuckled, but looked serious. “I have so much to explain to you, and I don't have any time. Would it be all right if I came over after work and we talked?”

 

Bitty started to nod, the wonder of the moment so clear and incredibly sweet.

 

It looked like Jack would turn and go, but he continued to stand there, memorizing Bitty’s face. He said, “Can I ask you a serious question?”

 

“You just did.”

 

Jack crushed his mouth on Bitty’s, kissed him hard and said, “Smartass. Would you like to come with me?”

 

“Come with you? Right now? Are you kidding me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes! Of course! Hang on a sec.” He ran to the kitchen, grabbed some small plastic bags and the coal, shoved them in a shopping bag and hurriedly put on his coat, boots and mitts.

 

Jack held out his hat, pulled out of his sleeve. “Would you wear this? For me?”

 

Bitty gasped. “Yes, yes, Jack, I would.” Jack placed it on Bitty’s head, and carefully brushed his bangs out of his eyes. Then he held out his hand and Bitty took it. They left the apartment together. Bitty locked the door and pocketed his key.

 

“Come with me,” Jack said, and in the beat between breaths, Bitty stood with him on the roof of his apartment, looking at a sleigh pulled by eight reindeer. In front, sat two men dressed in bright green coats with red hats and mitts. One of the men had violently red hair, which clashed with the hat and coat; his freckles so pronounced they stood out even in the dark. The other’s brown skin and hair suited the vibrant green better. His hat was slightly jauntier, and he had a more relaxed air about him.

 

“Hey, Boss, we’re already running late. Let’s go,” said the first.

 

“Dex, Nursey, I’d like you to meet Bitty. Bitty, two of my Associates.”

 

Nursey held out his hand and shook Bitty’s, “Hey cool. Nice to meet you. The Boss has been chatting about you non stop.”

 

Bitty grinned at the slightly embarrassed look on Jack’s face. “Has he now?”

 

Dex sighed. “Yes, he has. Can we please get a move on?”

 

“Chill,” said Nursey. “We’re good.”

 

Jack helped Bitty into the back of the sleigh and climbed in beside him. He pulled a thick red blanket over the two of them.

 

Dex flicked the reins and called out to the reindeer. “Now Wellie! Now Blue Line! Now Falconer and Poke Check! On Deke! On Slapshot! On Pucky and Hat Trick!”

 

“Your reindeer have interesting names. What happened to Dasher and Vixen and Rudolph and the rest?”

 

“Well, Dasher and Vixen are the main team and with my Papa. And there is no Rudolph.”

 

“No Rudolph?”

 

“No. He’s a fairytale.”

 

Bitty giggled a bit harder than might be necessary. “And the hockey terms?”

 

“For a long time I wanted to play in the NHL.”

 

“Okay then.” He sensed there might be more to this story, but if things went along satisfactorily, there’d be plenty of time to find out.

 

The night disappeared in the blink of an eye and at the same time stretched on to eternity. Bitty helped Jack climb in and out of all the houses where people celebrated Christmas. They were quick and silent, leaving behind gifts pulled out of a bag that looked like it might have once held hockey equipment. Bitty added small bags of his homemade coal to the stockings while Jack took bites from an assortment of cookies. The supply of coal never got smaller.

 

Towards morning, with the light of a new day on the horizon and the stars slowly winking out, Dex turned the sleigh toward north.

 

Bitty, snuggled up against Jack, dozed a little.

 

“Bitty?”

 

“Mmhmm?”

 

“Would it be all right if I brought you home? To meet my parents?”

 

It took a moment, but when the words registered, Bitty sat upright. “You want me to meet your parents? You mean Mr. and Mrs. Claus?” he squeaked.

 

“You’ll love them, and I think they’ll love you. They’ll insist you call them Alicia and Bob.”

 

“Santa’s name is Bob?”

 

“This Santa’s Bob. There have been hundreds of Santas through the years. Some inheriting from their parents and some called to be Santa when the previous one doesn't have children. That’s how Papa got the job. He was chosen. And now it’s my turn to learn.”

 

“Are you okay with that? Is that what you wanted to do?”

 

“Of course! It’s the best job in the world.”

 

“You seemed so stressed when I first met you, you know, nervous.”

 

“It’s my first official turn, doing Providence and I wanted to get it right. I was originally supposed to do my hometown of Montréal, but when I met you, I asked if I could do Providence.”

 

“You're kidding. If you're from Montréal what were you doing in Providence?”

 

Jack shrugged. “The magic called me here. To find you.”

 

“Oh, my! Is that normal?”

 

“I guess. I mean I didn't recognize you were the one until after I landed at the bakery, but here we are.”

 

“Here we are,” Bitty repeated.

 

The sleigh angled slightly down, and they were approaching a large city on a river, the lights still bright in spite of the rising sun. The air felt colder and there seemed to be more snow.

 

Bitty sat up to watch. “Is that Montréal?”

 

“Ouais, mon lapin,” Jack whispered in his ear. Bitty shivered, but not from the cold.

 

He laughed. “I don't have my passport.”

 

Jack’s laugh, big and bold, filled the air around them. “You're good. We’re not exactly on the radar and not heading toward the airport.

 

On the outskirts of the city, in a wooded area that seemed to spring from nowhere, the sleigh landed on the snow gracefully. Dex pulled back on the reins. When the sleigh slowed, Nursey hopped out and jogged up to the lead reindeer, hand on the harness.

 

Jack jumped out with Bitty right behind. Nursey and Dex were already leading the reindeer toward the woods. Jack held out his hand and Bitty grasped it.

 

“Come and meet my parents.” He led them toward a large house that wouldn't have looked out of place in most suburban areas but the air around it glimmered, and there was a tingle in the air that was more than the cold.

 

Entering in through the back, Jack took Bitty’s coat, hat and mitts and hung them up while Bitty removed his boots. Once Jack removed his outerwear, he put warm sheepskin slippers on. A new pair in Bitty’s size sat on the mat. Bitty quirked an eyebrow, and Jack shrugged.

 

“You’ll get used to it.”

 

The slightly hysterical giggles that had been percolating inside ever since Jack had shown up, threatened to escape, but Bitty put his hands over his mouth.

 

Jack’s small smile widened, and he leaned down and brushed his lips on Bitty’s. Bitty leaned into the kiss. It got a little more heated than perhaps Jack intended.

 

“Jacques! Jackie, my boy! Did I just see you sucking face? My little boy’s all grown up!”

 

Blushing, Bitty pulled away from Jack. A young man, sporting an impressive mustache stood there, incongruously in shorts with suspenders and a green and red t-shirt printed with, ‘OMG! SANTA! I KNOW HIM!’

 

“Bitty, this is Shitty.”

 

“Jack! Santa doesn't swear.”

 

The young man laughed. “I see you haven't met Bob yet.”

 

Jack smiled. “No, _this_ is Shitty. It’s his name.”

 

“You have an Associate named Shitty?”

 

“Santa Bob’s lawyer at your service.”

 

“Santa has a lawyer?”

 

“You would not believe all the fucking copyright issues we have to deal with. The money we almost lost on Hatchimals alone nearly caused a panic last Christmas. That’s still going through the courts, but we’ll get the fuckers.” Shitty banged his fist into his hand. His eyes were a little manic, and there was a strong smell of weed. Santa’s workshop was apparently way more relaxed than Bitty had imagined.

 

Jack, his hand on the small of Bitty’s back, led him into a living room with comfortable looking couches and a roaring fire. A tree artistically decorated with a mound of presents underneath sat in the corner. On the coffee table were bowls of oranges, clementines and nuts. Christmas carols played on an old fashioned stereo and the air smelled of cinnamon.

 

A lovely woman stood, crossed over from where she’d been sitting and held out her hand. Bitty clasped it. She shook it and then hugged him. “Welcome! You must be Bitty. I’m Jack’s mother, Alicia. I am so pleased to meet you.”

 

Bitty smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the long day and emotional roller coaster. He swayed a little.

 

“Oh my goodness. Come and sit down. Can I get you something? Water? Juice?”

 

‘Thank you, ma’am, some water would be nice.”

 

“Jack, help him to the couch.”

 

“I’m fine, just a little tired.”

 

Jack brought Bitty over to the couch and sat beside him. Bitty curled into his side, his head on Jack’s shoulder. Pulling an afghan from the behind them, Jack covered him.

 

Before Alicia could return with his glass of water, Bitty fell asleep.


End file.
